


Wake Me Up

by mainstreamduckling



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Angst, Blowjobs, Chris feeling happy, Drunken Confessions, I'm Sorry, I'm not good at anything but angst, Kissing, M/M, Original Character(s), So much kissing, i'm adding these tags chapter by chapter i'm sorry, mentions of Chris and OMC, sex in the bath
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-17
Updated: 2017-07-13
Packaged: 2018-11-15 07:46:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,887
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11226483
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mainstreamduckling/pseuds/mainstreamduckling
Summary: A story about falling in love and trying to fall out of love. In 10 parts.Chris will never forget the way he fell in love with Victor, but he's hoping he can forget what it feels like when he falls out.





	1. I should ink my skin with your name

**Author's Note:**

> I had a 3 hour car ride and all I had was this album, so of course my mind went wild with ideas. This will be done in 10 parts and they'll all be pretty short, just glimpses into the life of these two. 
> 
> Thank you to Marti (@venenix on tumblr) for screaming head canons with me, this is partially (mostly) for you. 
> 
> I'm sorry about the angst. Not all the parts will be like this but...... the over all story does not have a happy ending. 
> 
> come say hi on tumblr @blameotayuri

I.  
I should ink my skin  
With your name  
And take my passport out again  
And just replace it  
See I could do without a tan  
On my left hand, where my fourth finger meets my knuckle

 

The sun is low in the sky, canvassing the evening horizon in shades of gold, blue, purple and the barest hints of pink. The beach is quiet, with the exception of the softly rushing waves reaching toward the sand. There are lingering foot prints giving clues about the day’s activities; a pick up football match on the hill, where empty bottles still mark the goals, scurried paw prints barely remain visible after high tide came, and sandcastle ruins that look like the rise and fall of Rome scatter the now empty beach. 

It’s his favorite time of day, the quiet not yet night after a loud, perfect summer day. And it was perfect, he thinks. The look on Victor’s face when he arrived, unannounced, on the steps of his summer bungalow, was really just the beginning. Chris had the entire day planned out, starting with brunch at their favorite corner cafe, the one with the best scones in town and endless pots of coffee. They spent the morning eating, drinking, and talking about everything they’d missed out on over the past 3 months.

Victor got a haircut. (“I know it’s not as pretty as before…” he trailed off, less confident about his choice now that Chris was here. Chris just stares at him, continously amazed and maybe a little jealous at how effortless Victor’s beauty appeared. “You look beautiful.”)

Chris got a tattoo. (He pulled the shoulder of his tee-shirt down to reveal the small bundle of roses on his bicep. “I wanted something to remind me of you,” Chris admitted, “and I know how much you love that line ‘A rose by any other name would smell as sweet’.” Victor has to dry his eyes at that, moved by Chris’ thoughtfulness. “It looks beautiful.”)

They spent the next several hours strolling down the busy streets of town, stopping in shops, at food stalls; Chris insisted Victor be drawn by one of the street artists, as a memento of the day. A small concert in the park stole their attention for some time, the music upbeat and happy, a perfect match to the mood. 

That afternoon they spent on the beach. Mostly they laid on their towels under an umbrella, holding hands and taking in each other’s presence after their time apart. They watched as kids built castles, knocked them down and started over. A group of teenagers started a game of football; they were both invited to play but politely declined the offer. It was their time to be young and forget about the worries the future might bring. No need to bring two strangers into the mix. They played with Makkachin until he too picked a spot in the shade and laid down, too tired to continue fetch. 

It was a beautiful build up, Chris thought, the perfect day to which he had planned the perfect ending. _Perfect_ , Chris had thought. 

Sometimes everything falls exactly where it should and the ever eluding perfection can be attained. All of your plans work out the exact way you saw them in your head. The universe is on your side, you think. 

Other times there are confused eyes, filled with sadness and pity. There’s an “I’m sorry” whispered against your cheek, lips barely grazing skin. There’s walking away without looking back and all you can do is stay perfectly still and try to stay frozen because moving forward, making time pass again would make it real. The heartache, the heart break. Sometimes you think you know where your life is heading. And other times you’re left sitting on a beach, alone, watching the sunset with tears still in your eyes as you hold a small box with the ring still inside.


	2. 'Cause maybe you're lovable And maybe you're my snowflake

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sexy times in the bath.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I PROMISE I TRIED TO MAKE THIS LESS ANGSTY, I SWEAR I DID, I'M SORRY

II.  
And I should run you a hot bath  
And fill it up with bubbles  
'Cause maybe you're lovable  
And maybe you're my snowflake  
And your eyes turn from green to gray and in the winter I'll  
Hold you in a cold place

Winter was always Victor’s favorite season. Maybe it was the snow, maybe Christmas, maybe his birthday. There was just something about the cold air filling his lungs outside and the hot cocoa he knew was waiting for him inside that made the world seem brighter. 

He had just finished shoveling the walkway to his door when he came inside to soft jazz music playing. There was, of course, a cup of hot cocoa on the counter for him and a little note that read: 

Let me take care of you for a change - C

Victor’s cheeks grew warm and read, and not because of the cocoa. He finished his drink and took off his coat before heading down the hall to the bathroom where the music grew louder and a deep voice sang along. 

Chris was sitting at the edge of the bath, looking beautiful as ever. When he noticed Victor in the doorway he made his way to him, greeting him with a kiss on the cheek. 

“Hi,” he said with a smile and Victor instantly felt warmed. Chris’ presence could always do that, though. With just a look, a word, a gentle hand on his back, Chris could make Victor’s whole world right again. Just like now, he thinks, as Chris peels back layer after layer of clothing. All his troubles just disappear and it’s Chris’s doing, like always. He feels grateful. Really. And guilty. He knows that this is more to Chris than it is to himself but the way Chris’ hands feel on his body, the way he peppers little kisses all over his skin… Victor can’t help himself. 

Chris is on his knees in front of Victor, and God what a sight that is, so familiar and still so breathtaking. His big green eyes look up at him from under the longest eyelashes, asking permission, for approval. 

“What about the bath?” asks Victor, trying to keep his voice steady. 

Chris leans forward and whispers into his thighs, “The water’s still too hot, love. Don’t want you to burn yourself.” 

Fingers crawl up Victor’s legs to his waist and run smoothly over the skin just above the waistband of his boxer-briefs. He sighs and laces his fingers into Chris’ hair, an unspoken permission. He hears the hitch in Chris’ breathing as he slowly pulls down on the band and can’t help the twitch of his hips closing the gap between Chris’ mouth and his groin. 

He expects Chris to take him immediately, eagerly like always, but it’s teasing this time. Small kisses to the inside of his thigh, soft bites into the flesh on his hips, a lazy hand wrapping around his half hard dick. 

Chris looks up again, “I love you,” he says, in the sweetest voice Victor has ever heard. He doesn’t know what to say. He’s not surprised, he’s known for weeks. The feeling of guilt rushes back into his stomach and he can’t look at Chris’ face any more. He just tugs at Chris’ hair, hard, and drowns in the low groan he let’s out before taking Victor whole. 

The warmth that envelops him does nothing to lessen his feelings but, my god, is it a good distraction. He focuses on the feeling of Chris’ mouth sliding over his dick, his tongue dancing wickedly over the tip, and his hands holding his hips in place. His pace is quickening and it turns from sweet to sin in seconds. Victor knows Chris loves this, the feeling of Victor heavy on his tongue and he knows he’s taking advantage of it. He tries to push that feeling aside when he comes with Chris’ name on his lips. Chris’ swallows greedily around him, taking everything Victor gives. 

Victor moves his hands from Chris’ hair to his cheek and gently pulls up to look at his face. Chris stands slowly, dragging his fingers over Victor’s chest. The look into each other’s eyes for a moment before Victor kisses him, the bitter taste a welcome punishment. He bites Chris’ bottom lip gently, but he knows Chris loves it. Chris flicks out his own tongue to taste more of Victor’s sweet lips. They stay standing for a moment longer, simply breathing each other in. 

“I think the water’s ready,” says Victor, lips brushing against the other man’s. 

They both step in, some of the water sloshing out, even with a tub as big as this one. Chris moves to wash Victor’s hair but a hand up stop him. 

“I know you said you wanted to take care of my for a change, but when will you realize,” Victor starts, “that you’ve always taken care of me?” He straddles Chris, feeling his erection against his cheeks. “You’re always right there by my side, whatever I need you give. You’re the most selfless person I’ve ever met.” A soft kiss. “Please, let me do this.” 

He looks into Chris’ eyes and sees something he doesn’t recognize. Fear? Sadness? It’s gone in a flash, replaced by a hunger Victor is more than familiar with. 

“Your eyes are always so cold in the winter. So much grayer than usual. I just wanted to…” Chris trails off, electing to finish the sentence with a kiss, passionate and dirty. He wants to show him just how much he loves him. He cries out when Victor’s hand suddenly wraps around his cock, but Victor’s mouth finds his again and he’s desperate now. His rhythm is too fast for him too last any respectable amount of time but he tries to hold back, to make this last. 

“Will you come for me, baby? Please?” Victor mumbles into Chris’ ear, his voice cracked and covered in want. “Please, baby.”

And Chris could never resist Victor. He bucks his hips up for more friction and Victor takes that as his queue to speed his hand. Moments later, Chris is coming into the tub and on both of their stomachs and it’s a mess. He catches his breath and lets out a giggle. 

“This was supposed to get us clean,” he says with a smile, looking into Victor’s blue eyes. “What a mess we’ve made here.” He rests his head on Victor’s shoulder and feels suddenly tired. He closes his eyes and let’s Victor’s fingers draw lazy circles on his back. 

He can’t see the tired sadness in Victor’s eyes. He remains blissfully, ignorantly, in love. There’s a droplet on Victor’s cheek.


	3. maybe I'm just in love when you....

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The night after the banquet has become pretty predictable to Chris. But Victor loves his surprises, everyone knows that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I DID IT!!! THERE'S LIKE NO ANGST IN THIS!! Okay, so there is but it's the happiest ending of the chapters so far!! Let me know what you think, I was in a lot of pain when I wrote this (physical) so there may be some parts that don't make sense or lots of typos.... Anyway, ENJOY!!

III.  
And you should never cut your hair  
'Cause I love the way you flick it off your shoulder  
And you will never know just how beautiful you are to me  
But maybe I'm just in love when you wake me up

There was something about the lighting on the podium that made Victor look extra beautiful. Or maybe it was the artistically styled braid falling loosely over Victor’s shoulder. Or maybe the way his costume was perfectly fitted, hanging not too loosely over his shoulders, sticking tightly to his narrow waist and hips, accentuating an impressive (even for a skater) ass, and showing off powerful thighs and calves. Victor Nikiforov was truly a gift from the heavens, Chris thought. He couldn’t even be mad at the silver medal, yet again, putting a soft pressure on his sternum. The view from here made up for it, he thought. 

*

They were in Chris’ hotel room that night, giggling to each other, arms around each other, and being too close to each other to pretend this wasn’t going anywhere. Which was fine by both of them, there were no pretenses. Not since the first time. So when the giggling turned softer and the blush on Victor’s cheek wasn’t entirely related to the champagne bottle that lay empty on the floor Chris was ready. Or he thought he was. 

“I love you, Christophe Gi-gia-commmmmti!” Victor slurred out, his breath warm on Chris’ neck, “I love you so much. I mean it, I promise.”

So Chris, played along and said, “I love you, Vitya, mon coeur.” And he couldn’t help smiling back at Victor, whose face had lit up into a blinding, breathtaking smile. It looked so genuine even behind the alcohol redness in his eyes. “I love you so much.”

And after that it continues exactly as Chris figured it would, they kiss, Victor strip Chris naked, Chris blows Victor, and Victor finishes him off with his hands. It’s become so routine, he’s not sure why he expected something different. It’s not even like this is the first time Victor had drunkenly professed his love to Chris and forgotten it in the morning. It won’t be the last either. And he sort of cherishes these nights over the rest because he gets to be honest. He doesn’t have to pretend he doesn’t love Victor on nights like these. 

*

The next morning something feels off when he wakes up. He knows Victor’s awake despite the slow breaths and relaxed body pressed against him. He nuzzles into Victor’s neck and peppers kisses all the way up to his neck.  
“Good morning, mon rayon de soleil,” he whispers, and he lets himself revel in the content sigh Victor lets out. “How are we feeling this morning?” He says a bit louder, but he knows Victor loves his rough, sleep caked voice in the morning. 

“We are feeling…. happy,” says Victor, turning his head as far as he can to smile at Chris, who leans down to steal a single kiss. 

Chris hums in agreement, pulls Victor closer to him, and brushes a long strand of hair out of his face. “Coffee?” 

“Hmm, not yet,” Victor replies, “Just a few more minutes, here, with you, mon coeur.” 

Chris stiffens at that. Mon coeur? Victor’s never used pet names like this before, especially not ones that Chris used the night before while Victor was drunk. There’s a moment of panic, and he feels the adrenaline fill his body but he forces himself to not overreact. He tries to steady his breathing and his heart beats and his mile an hour stream of thoughts. 

“I wasn’t as drunk as you thought I was, Chris,” Victor says, slowly turning his whole body to face Chris. He presses a single kiss to the base of Chris’ neck and continues, “and I know you’ve loved me since, well, for a long time now. And I’m sorry I didn’t tell you before last night and I’m sorry for making you believe it was only drunk me, but I couldn’t bring myself to say it. What if I was wrong? I didn’t think I was but I’m not as brave as you.” 

They both breathe in, in sync, before Victor finishes. “But I’m going to tell you now. Completely sober. I love you, Christophe Giacometti. So much.” He looks up at Chris, who can’t bring himself to open his eyes,, afraid that this is all a dream, a beautiful perfect dream. He feels Victor move and then a hand is on his cheek. He moves to look down at Victor and finally opens his eyes. 

“Are you sure?” he asks, and he suddenly feels years younger, naive and innocent. 

Victor can’t help but giggle and nod, never looking away from Chris. “I love you,” he repeats and reaches up to kiss Chris who reciprocates with a newfound passion. He wraps both arms around Victor and rolls him over so he can lay on top of him. He places a hand on each side of Victor’s head and looks into his eyes. “I love you, too.” 

The rest of the morning is lost to shouting I love you’s as loud as they can while wrestling in the sheets of their bed. Coffee is traded for mutual blowjobs in the shower, breakfast in bed turns into a heated make out session, and their clothes lay untouched until late afternoon when Victor refuses to let go of Chris who insists he’ll miss his flight back home if he doesn’t go and pack this instance. 

“I don’t wanna leave you,” Victor says into Chris’ neck, his arms wrapped tightly around Chris’ middle. And Chris get’s it, he really does. He promises Victor face time dates and lots of visits as soon as he can manage. He manages to make Victor leave with a promise of a beach trip in the summer. When the door shuts behind the man of his dreams Chris falls back onto his bed and smiles, laughs, and wipes the tears out of his eyes. He hasn’t felt this happy since he first lay eyes on Victor Nikiforov.


	4. If you did the same to me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is how it starts: Victor is an idiot, Chris is in love, and summer flings don't mean a thing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chronologically this would probably be chapter 1? Like this is how it starts. 
> 
> Thank you to Marti, as always, for encouraging me and giving me inspiration to FINALLY finish chapter 4. hopefully the wait for chapter 5 won't be as long. 
> 
> also.... no angst!! again!

IV.  
And would you ever feel guilty  
If you did the same to me  
Would you make me a cup of tea  
To open my eyes in the right way

 

Having a friend on the competition circuit is kind of a blessing, Chris thinks. It’s so much less lonely and, if he was being completely honest, less hostile. Sure all of the skaters were generally friendly with each other but it was still a competition and there wasn’t a ton of time to just si around and chit chat. Not for the other. But for Chris and Victor? If they weren’t on the ice they were with each other, trading stories about home, family, friends, and in Victor’s case, exes. 

Chris certainly wasn’t inexperienced in romance (or sex) but he also didn’t give himself away quite as freely as Victor did. Whenever they would meet up again after a couple of months apart, Victor would have a new story about a new lover in a new city. Chris always listened ad supported in whatever way was necessary at the time (from holding Victor as he cried or threatening to beat someones ass). And then Victor would ask, “What about you, solnishko?” and Chris would blush and say, “This sun shines only for you,” and blush the deepest red. Victor would pat his head and giggle. It was what they did. Victor never shot Chris down directly but he also never encouraged the crush. Which was fine. Really. Until Chris met Noah.

Noah was a skier who had moved to Sweden to train at the same facility that Chris did. The met in the cafeteria and really hit it off. Really hit if off. They started to sneak away during practice breaks, because what were cleaning closets for if not brief but intense make out sessions? And after a couple of months of bathroom blowjobs and back seat kisses, Chris realized that maybe he had feelings for this guy. So he told him. 

Which is how he ended up in Victor’s hotel room with him crying into Victor’s arms for a change. 

“He just didn’t think it was anything serious,” Chris managed to get out between soft sobs, “he thought we were just having fun. Which we were. But I thought, maybe, I would be enough….” Chris stops himself. Even in this kind of state he had enough restraint to not let those feelings out in front of Victor. 

“Be enough? What do you mean, Chris?” the concern was more than obvious in Victor’s voice and his tone gave Chris the impression that if he were to lie, to say “Oh nothing, I’m fine” he would be in trouble. So he sighed, wiped the last of his tears away and explained. 

“You realize that I’ve been kind of in love with you forever, right?” Victor blushes but he gives a small nod. “Well, I guess I …. I don’t know, it sounds stupid but I guess I thought the reason you don’t love me back is because I wasn’t good enough for you. Which was, is, fine, because you’re still my best friend and I wouldn't have it any other way. But I thought maybe this time, for this guy, I could be enough. And when he, well, when he said no I just felt like I had been stabbed in the heart all over again and it had almost nothing to do with Noah.” 

He couldn't bring himself to look up at Victor so he just started at his hand in his lap and hoped Victor would find a way to fix this. Like he always did. 

“Noah is an idiot.” Victor’s voice was calm, even, and low, impossible for Chris to read. “And so am I.” 

Chris does look up at that and sees the tiniest hint of a smile on Victor’s lips. He imagines his own face is riddled in confusion but he also imagines Victor can understand why. Victor was one of the most intelligent, clever, creative, and knowledgeable people Chris had ever met, what did he mean?

“I’ve been the biggest idiot, Chris. And I’m so sorry.” Chris almost feels like crying again. But light fingers on his chin forced him to look up and meet Victor’s eyes. Victor’s fingers traced light circles on his jaw and neck and up his cheek all while never taking his eyes off Chris. But the gaze didn’t feel hot or heavy or like Chris was drowning. It just felt warm, embracing, and full of love. Victor’s thumb grazed gently over Chris’ bottom lip and Chris couldn’t help but shudder. 

“I’ve been telling myself that what I feel for you was a protective love, like I was your brother. But when you told me stories about Noah over the summer I was getting jealous and I knew that I’d been an idiot, an idiot who was lying to himself.” The soft touched of Victor’s fingers continued, skating over Chris’ shoulders and neck and occasionally coming back up to his lips. “There isn’t a single universe where you’re not good enough for me, Chris. You’re more than good enough. You’re everything, you’re perfect you’re-”

Chris couldn’t contain himself anymore. Lips met lips, slotting together perfectly, moving in perfect synchrony. Slowly and gently they moved together like waves on a beach lapping over each other, the wind pushing the water a little further each time. Again and again, lips would meet lips and each time gave a little bit more, until Victor held Chris’ bottom lip in between his teeth. They pulled away then and took deep much breaths. Then Chris realized what had happened and his eyes widened. But Victor smiled and leaned in for another kiss. Just one. 

“I love you too, mon coeur, mon amour, mon Chris.” 

They spent the rest of the evening kissing. Softly, aggressively, with love and with the knowledge that they had all the time in the world to keep kissing. Victor kept caressing Chris’ lips which would make Chris blush and ask, “Why do you do that?”

“Because they’re soft,” he’d whisper, “and beautiful.” And then he would kiss Chris again, like it was the first time every time. So carefully like Chris would break. But Chris would deepen it and show Victor that he wouldn't break, that he was strong enough, good enough. Victor got the message and kissed right back but every time they started again, it would be soft. 

So they stayed for hours, just kissing. And smiling. 

And that’s how they started.


End file.
